


Every September 1st

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-03-08 22:36:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3226028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes we regret the lessons we teach. One shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every September 1st

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, I wanted to write something very angsty, and here it is.
> 
> This story does not have a happy ending. Beware!
> 
> This idea came to my mind because in the most of Slytherin!Harry stories someone finds about the abuse he suffers right in first year, while in Gryffindor!Harry stories he hides it for years. Well, being a Slytherin (of name and soul, in this case) would probably mean that Harry would hide the abuse too, especially because the snakes might consider him weak for not standing up to a muggle.
> 
> Also, in many Slytherin!Harry stories Snape treats Harry better because he sees that Harry needs help. I wanted a Severus that wouldn't see the real Harry - until it was too late :(

**Every September 1st**

Harry was back at Hogwarts. His home. And the last place he would see in his life, if he could say anything about that. The beginning of his sixth year. Just two more years and no more Dursleys. Too sweet, but not enough. He looked at his house-mates, avoiding _her_ eyes.

He hadn't wanted to break up with Daphne Greengrass, his girlfriend since last year and the girl he liked since his third year. But it had been necessary. Uncle Vernon had informed him what would happen in that summer, and he wouldn't be able to work properly after that, so he left her, giving her the time to forget him and not suffer very much when he finally left this world.

He had begged more than even before to be left at Hogwarts, but Dumbledore was adamant that he needed to be with his relatives. Fucking Dumbledore. Then he asked to stay with the Malfoys, as Draco was his friend and Lucius and Narcissa had offered the place. Not allowed either. The headmaster didn't want the little saviour of the wizarding world to stay with a dark family. Voldemort was gone since 1981 and Dumbledore still used him as a poster-boy. It was unnerving.

When Harry said that his relatives hated him Dumbledore had the gall to say that he was being influenciated by his Slytherin friends in their anti-muggle campaign. Ridiculous.

He laughed bitterly remembering when Professor McGonagall gave him his Hogwarts' letter. She was so happy, talking how she knew his parents and things like that. Hagrid, the half-giant told him that he'd known Harry when he was just a baby. Everyone seemed to love him. Until his sorting. Being a Slytherin meant that he would be the evil walking upon the Earth. And then nobody cared about him any more.

Not even his head of house. Snape had made it very clear during his first and second year that he hated Harry, and that his placement on Slytherin was the most horrible thing in the world. Later Draco informed him that Snape had been enemies with Harry's father - what was very obvious, since the man was always comparing him to James Potter. In the last three years, though, Snape relaxed a bit and stopped to give him detention for nothing or belittle him in every single class.

Sometimes Harry wondered if Snape knew what happened at the Dursleys and despised him for not being able to stop his _muggle_ uncle from hurting and humiliating him.

He never told his friends about the Dursleys. When they asked anything he would just shrug and say that he stayed out of their way and them out of his. Oh, how he wanted that to be true. But no, his uncle never stayed out of his way, no matter how much Harry tried to make himself invisible. He knew that Lucius would have his way to gain Harry's guardianship, but he wouldn't tell his Slytherin friends that he couldn't face a muggle. That he had been beaten and raped by a muggle. Not while he was alive, at least.

So, being the perfect Slytherin, Harry pretended to be all right every single day. No one could guess what happened at Privet Drive number four. Not even Aunt Petunia knew everything - he suspected so.

He had thought about killing himself in Privet Drive; the bitter, dark glee of giving his relatives the trouble of dealing with body was something he seriously considered. But in the end, he wanted to die at home, at Hogwarts. He'd decided that he would do it right after the feast, because if he lingered the act he was afraid that he would give up about it. And Harry needed the freedom that only death would give him.

He'd written three letters before leaving his relatives' house. One for Daphne, one for Draco and one open letter, for anyone who wanted to read that. He would leave them in the common room, spelled so that only Daphne or Draco could read the particular missives.

In the Hogwarts Express he had locked himself alone in a cabin. It would be very hard to talk with his friends. Coward, Harry knew, but he wasn't a Gryffindor, was he? He told Draco and Theo that he had a terrible headache, and all the Slytherins knew to leave Harry alone when he had headaches. So he was alone with his thoughts during the feast.

He glanced at the other tables. None of them knew what his life was like. For them he was just another Slytherin that had happened to vanquish a Dark Lord, and that probably was the next.

_Never could we see_

_What lies deeper_

_Seeming that our view_

_Can't be changed_

_Deciding where to go_

_And believe in your disaster_

_Deleting a future untold_

So he had four images: Boy, the freak, the punching bag, the whore, at Privet Drive. Harry, the happy boy that was happy with his friends and girlfriend. The Boy Who Lived and next Dark Lord as he was seen by the wizarding world. And Potter, the obnoxious, arrogant, worthless brat that Snape so liked to declare.

He wasn't happy or arrogant, and obviously neither the next Dark Lord. In he end of the day he was just Harry. A boy who had seen worse things than most people in his not so long life.

It wasn't self pity, just the truth. The ugly truth.

A boy who couldn't bear to wear masks all the time, and a boy who couldn't face the shame and ask for help.

After the feast he went directly to the dorms, closed the curtains and put silencing spells on his bed. That was a routine for him already, because since his fourth year the Dreamless Sleep potion didn't work for him any more, and he didn't want to wake up his dorm mates with his nightmares, much less did he want them to see his condition after those horrible dreams.

But that night he wouldn't sleep.

_Will we be forever free as we unchain our souls_

_From life forever_

_You are just a slave to the dust_

_Another time, where you and me will be freed_

_With one more last endeavor_

_You cannot escape your fate now_

_No_

About three hours later Harry stood up. He was dressed on his student robes, but beneath them he was still using the over sized clothes that the Dursleys gave him. He would die as everything he was: the perfect Slytherin and the abused boy. He didn't want to be someone else - even if he wanted that more than anything at the same time. A horrible dichotomy.

He put the letters in a couch in the common room and glanced at the place all adorned in different shades of green and silver. A little pain on his heart knowing that he would see that place for the last time.

He walked down into the dungeons. Stopping sometimes to talk with snakes painted in the walls. They would be the last ones to talk with him. And no one else would be able to comprehend them. That was very intimate, and sad, and fitting.

He finally saw an old, abandoned classroom and entered there. He take out the quill he had on his pocket and transfigured it into a knife.

He pressed the knife on his left wrist, not enough to hurt. Not yet.

And then, the tears that he held for so long finally fell. At first they were just shy threads of tears, but soon enough they changed to desperated sobs. He didn't want that, he just wanted to feel free. Everything that happened at the Dursleys were just too much.

_Try me, don't deny me_

_Please embrace me in your peace_

_I want to fly into the bright_

_Would you please guide my last goodbye_

_Why won't you lie with me, my light's ending_

_On a night when I find, I'll take my final flight_

In the last summer his uncle began to sell him for prostitution. The beatings were somehow less damaging - wouldn't want the whore bruised, would, Vernon? But it had been the worst summer ever. He didn't want to remember everything that he was forced to do.

He pressed the knife again, this time harder, and the skin was cut. Blood began to run down his hand. He removed the glamours on his arms, exposing the old scars he had on his arms - self inflicted or not - and pressed his fingers against some of them.

He didn't want to die. He wanted to marry Daphne - someday - and have children. And see Draco marrying Blaise, and Theo finally telling Pansy that he liked her. But he wouldn't see that.

He cut again. This time deeper and rougher. Blood was running wildly now. Before he was too weak, he took the knife with his left hand, which was almost slipping because of the blood on it, and cut his right wrist too.

He began to feel dizzy and looked at the floor. There was so much blood.

_Now come and see divinity where night turns day_

_So far away from heaven_

_(You will never earn my trust)_

_Provoke the need, give word to deed_

_And dive into another God-like atmosphere_

_(You will never find you way out)_

_No_

He was still crying, silently now.

Memories of the Dursleys were popping on his mind.

His uncle's fists. Aunt Petunia insulting him. His uncle forcing Harry to give him a blow job for he first time - he was ten at then, - his cousin and friends beating him.

Uncle Vernon never beat him in places that people would be able to see, but Harry could remember the pain on his legs, and arms - he always used long sleeved shirts - and back.

Men at this summer. Many of them using him at the same time. He begging for mercy. He telling them that he could not take any more.

_I'd rather die_

_Than breathe in my shame_

_They'll know my name_

_All Hell in flames_

Harry's vision began to blur, and his breath became shallow. He could feel his whole body cold and his limbs numb. He would make it. He was lying on the floor and didn't even notice when he had fell over his own blood.

Daphne's face appeared before him. Her silky blonde hair was brilliant as always, and she smiled. Her usually cold blue eyes were warm. She leaned and kissed him and told him that everything would be all right. He believed her and a hopeful smile came on his lips.

.

Severus Snape was woken in the middle of the night when the alarms of the sixth year boy's dorm went off. Cursing under his breath he got up and put his robes and walked towards the dorms, already planning the worst sort of punishment to the miserable soul that dared to disturb his sacred sleep.

He entered the sixth year boy's dorm and saw promptly which bed was empty. Potter's. Of course it had to be the Potter brat to wake him in the middle of he night. He was exiting the room when someone called him. Draco.

"Uncle Sev, what's happened?"

He was going to tell that it was nothing, but perhaps Draco knew about Potter's whereabouts...

"Do you know where is Potter?"

Draco frowned and looked at Potter's bed.

"No. He was in bed right after the feast, told us that he had a headache."

Severus nodded and went back to the common room. And then he noticed the letters in the couch. One of them for Draco, another for Ms. Greengrass and another for no one. He took Draco's and returned to the dorm, delivering the missive.

When Draco began to read it, about the third line, he understood what Harry was telling him, and the colour vanished from his face.

"We need to find Harry," he said desperately to Snape, who was standing there waiting and watching him like a hawk.

"Indeed, and when I find Potter he will be very, very sorry."

"I wouldn't be so sure. He is committing suicide," Draco replied numbly.

"What?" Severus hissed and took the letter from Draco's hand, scanning it quickly. When he read the words 'only way', 'I need to be free', 'Will be with my parents' he ran, not even noticing that Draco was following him as well.

"Point me Harry Potter," he whispered roughly.

The spell led them to the deep dungeons, but it suddenly stopped. Severus panicked. Potter couldn't be dead. But if the spell had stopped it only could mean that he was. One of his Slytherins was dead... Only that Snape had never thought of Harry Potter as any of his other snakes. He stopped on his tracks, and Draco bumped on him.

"What has happened?"

"The spell, it stopped," Snape replied.

"No..." Draco whispered, shaking his head. "No!"

"I am sorry, Draco..."

"Point me Harry Potter. Point me Harry Potter. Point me Harry Potter." Draco repeated over and over with no result.

Severus cast Patroni, sent them to Dumbledore and McGonagall, and walked towards his office, dragging Draco - who was crying silently - with him.

He was furious, really furious at Potter. How did the boy dare to do such a thing?

Severus drugged Draco and sent him to his dorm. He picked up the letter that was addressed to no one and put on his pocket, and gave Daphne's hers.

He then went with Dumbledore and McGonagall to find Potter's body.

They found it in one old, abandoned class.

He had to force the bile back when he saw all that blood. Too much blood. And worse - the fact that there was a smile on the boy's lips.

Dumbledore looked grim. McGonagall was crying - as though she had ever cared about Potter.

He left abruptly, not wanting to look at that body any more.

.

On his office, Severus drank two glasses of firewhisky. He bloody well needed that. One of his students had committed suicide and he had not seen the signs that something like that was going to happen.

He took the letter from his pocket, wanting to understand why Potter had done that.

_Dear reader(s),_

_I write this letter to justify my action, since I believe - or I hope so - that someone misses me and wants to know why I did this. This is an open letter, but it is intended for all those who cared for me besides Daphne and Draco. They were - are - special and got exclusive ones._

At that Severus felt like stealing a pie from a window. That letter wasn't for him. He had never cared about Harry.

_Well... One does not commit suicide out of the blue. I, apparently, have a perfect life. Turns out that in the reality my life is painful._

_My aunt and uncle - Petunia and Vernon Dursley - are two muggles who absolutely hate magic. My mother - a muggleborn witch as you already know - was Petunia's sister. I was sent to live with her for 'protection' (I'm laughing aloud at Dumbledore's idea of protection) from remaining Death Eaters. As I already told you, he Dursleys HATE magic, so it is obvious that they despise me to._

_I grew up having a cupboard under the stairs as a room, and being told how worthless, stupid, brainless, freak I am. It wasn't always that I got to eat. And there were times when I didn't want to eat... Sometimes my uncle would want a 'payment' for food. You know what I mean. The first time it happened I was ten. Sometimes I had to service him only to avoid being beaten (although he mostly tricked me and beat me after I had sucked him - sorry for the language)._

_During my years at Hogwarts, I hid what happened with me very well. The perfect Slytherin. I was inclined to just wait until I was seventeen to get the hell out of my relatives' house. But the last summer was even worse._

_My uncle decided to 'sell me' for prostitution. I am deeply ashamed, but I have to tell how horrible it was so somene will understand me, maybe._

_I was forced to have sex with four men at the same time. The pain, the shame, the humiliation... It was all surreal, almost unbearable._

_I couldn't bear the memories of what happened and neither the nightmares - Dreamless Sleep potion does not work for me any more. I wish I could tell someone, but I wouldn't tell my friends. I can't handle their pity. And besides them there is no one else for me._

_I heard that Snape helped some students that have a difficult home. But his help is not for me, so I never asked (though I did think about it sometimes)._

Severus gasped. Dear Merlin... How could he... How?

_I need to be free._

_I don't know if there is a God or something like that (although I'm inclined to believe that God either doesn't exist or hates me - if the latter is true then I'm really fucked, and ready to side with the Devil). I don't know if there is an afterlife. I like to think that there is, and that I will see my parents there._

_I know some people liked me. I would like to dare and say that they loved me... But I can't. I want to believe that I will see them again... Someday._

_This letter is a bit lacking organization, forgive me, but I am a little emotional right now..._

_I thought about killing myself at my relatives' house (Petunia's face when she found me all bloodied and staining her pristine floor would be priceless - and I believe I only gave up on the idea because I wouldn't be alive to see her). In the end I decided to die at Hogwarts. The first and only place I ever considered home._

_I want to thank every one who taught me something:_

_Daphne taught to me love. I love you._

_Draco taught me how to act when having a friend._

_As did Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Tracy, Greg, Vince._

_Lucius Malfoy taught me that he would maybe care for me (he invited me to stay at Malfoy Manor during the summer - Dumbledore did not allow it)._

_The Dursleys taught me that I am a freak, worthless, stupid, idiot, burden, and that I should have died with my parents._

_Snape taught me that maybe the Dursleys were right._

Severus swallowed and buried his head on his hands. Dear Lord! How could he fail Lily so horribly?

_Dumbledore taught me that my problems aren't really important. (I begged him to let me stay at Hogwarts during summers)._

_McGonagall taught me that she would like me, if I wasn't a snake._

_And, finally, those men who used me taught me that I am a whore._

_I am sorry for everyone who will miss me._

_Please show this to people who wants to know my reasons._

_Harry James Potter,_

_Heir to the House of Potter, member of Slytherin House, worthless freak and whore._

Severus felt guilt, shame, hate, anger and sadness when he finished the letter.

It was partially his fault.

There was an ache on his chest, nearly crushing his lugs. It _was_ hard to breath.

_"Are you so stupid that you can't comprehend even the simplest things that even the less intelligent can, Potter?"_

_"Evanesco. This potion would as useful as your brain, Potter."_

_"What, Potter, surprised because you got a detention? I will not adore the excuse of wizard you are. You did nothing to deserve your fame. Perhaps the killing curse you survived did damage your brain, after all."_

_"Arrogant, just like your father."_

_"I am not your doting relatives, Potter. You will clean the floor again, and this time truly without magic!"_

_"Abysmal as always, Potter. It doesn't surprise me, really, it doesn't. What should I expect from you?"_

All those spiteful words popped on his mind. Merlin, he had been a hand driving the child to commit suicide.

His hatred for James Potter blinded him.

And it was Harry Potter who suffered from that.

He drank the rest of the bottle of firewhisky.

.

On the next morning the Slytherins were grim. Especially the sixth years. Severus had taken a hangover potion and sent Potter's letter to the Daily Prophet. Surely soon enough the wizarding population would begin to claim that Harry was wanting attention. For once, Snape didn't people to think that.

Daphne Greengrass was sobbing and crying uncontrolled. Draco was no better. Pansy Parkinson had had a fit.

Lucius floo called him devastated when the urgent edition of the Prophet was publicized.

Dumbledore and McGonagall were devastated as well.

Severus atended Potter's funeral as his head of house. People were glaring at him, and McGonagall and Dumbledore. They all had a bit of blame on the tragedy. He stood there, impassive, and unable to find the will to glare back.

In the Yule break the Dursleys were brutally killed. Lucius, Draco, Pansy and her parents, Theodore Nott and his grandfather participated. It had been like the old - Death Eaters' - days, acording to the Malfoy Lord.

.

Severus looked at the tombstone and sighed. Nothing was written on it. It had been a request of Daphne Greengrass - actually, Harry had asked that on the letter he left her.

Those words would haunt him forever.

' _Snape taught me that maybe the Dursleys were right._ '

All teachers at Hogwarts had neglected Potter, but only Severus had reinforced Harry's poor beliefs about himself.

Every September 1st the Potions professor is not present at the welcoming feast. He is in a graveyard wishing he could have known the real Harry Potter before it was too late.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The music parts are from "Serenade of Self-destruction" by Epica.


End file.
